Oh Oregon, My Oregon
by The Queen of Asgard
Summary: Drabbles with my Hetalia OC, Oregon with her humble beginnings to where she is today. Contains OOC America and England, Bigfoot and shenanigans. May or may not be continued.


-**November 7th, 1805-**

The unknown wilderness had beckoned to America ever since he was a child, even living under England's stern rules but ever since he had gotten his freedom, all he wanted was to go and explore. That's why he had put a bug in Jefferson's ear and scrounged up two rather high standing men in St. Louis and set out to explore the great outdoors. Granted, America wasn't too keen on almost getting eaten by a bear or falling down 200 foot waterfalls while the men around him whooped and cheered, nearly falling to their deaths.

Meriwether Lewis shook water out of his hair and laughed again, clapping America on the shoulder fondly, "That's the most fun I've had in weeks."

The more reserved of the two, Clarke, rolled his eyes and wrung out his cap, "It's like Sacagewea doesn't even know where we're going..." He frowned and grabbed his journal from underneath his seat, shrieking when he found out it was wet, "Honestly!"

Lewis stopped laughing and instead coughed awkwardly, trying to console his best friend and second in command, "Come now, I'll make you a new journal when we get home, old friend."

Clarke mumbled something under his breath as America looked out over the vast burnt orange hillsides that sprung up on either side of the travelers, "Wow," He breathed, trying to take it all in. This was his home. His perfect, beautiful home that he had never even seen. His big brother Edward had told him about the coastlines of this majestic place, so rocky and stormy that he could barely tame her. From the looks of it, neither England or France had been able to tame this wild beast.

They continued down the Columbia, the swift current carrying them to their current objective, the river a wide expanse of blue-gray under an equally slate colored sky, the sun barely peaking through the clouds as they hurried on their way east. "It's beautiful." America said for the 232nd time. Lewis glanced back at the blond and flashed him a grin.

"Were you expecting anything less, Alfred?" He asked in his usual booming voice. America shook his head swiftly and watched as the craggy orange hills gave way to green forests the color of emeralds, the trees rising up so high on either side of the river, they practically blotted out the sky.

"No, of course not. I'm just so happy to finally see it," America replied, breathing a sigh of relief, "To finally be able to close my eyes and picture what she looks like."

"Well, we have yet to actually meet her." Clarke pointed out, drying off the pages of his journal with his sleeve.

"But England and Spain have told me stories," America said, still grinning like a child, "France too."

Lewis shot Clarke a look and Clarke cleared his throat, setting the journal aside, "We didn't want to dissapoint you, Alfred but we think maybe she's been colonized already. She's had plenty of contact with fur traders and even pirates, I'm sure. We just can't get our hopes up. If she's been colonized by one of them we may have already lost her."

"No," America shook his head quickly, "We haven't lost her. She is still one of mine, even if I've never met her. She doesn't belong to that damned Spain or England.

"If she is..." Lewis began but stopped when America held up his hand to silence him.

"No. Don't even say that." He snarled, trying to keep his composure.

An awkward silence settled over the canoe as they paddled on, the trees, if possible, getting even larger. A worm of fear dug itself into America's heart. He didn't want to believe if but the gnawing thought of some woman who spoke Spanish and flounced around like a flamenco dancer lingered in the back of his mind.

A salty breeze pulled America from his thoughts and his stomach turned over in excitement. They were nearing the ocean! The wind whistled through the tree branches and the river widened until it was at least a mile across! "Mr. Lewis!" A crewmember from the front canoe cried, "I see the ocean!"

Lewis let out a whoop, "Well done, lads! We've done it!" He cried, the smile never leaving his face.

America looked out in awe and wonder as he gazed upon the Pacific Ocean for the first time. "It's amazing," He whispered, his eyes locked on with the massive expanse of horizon.

"Pull to the north, men. We'll see if we can find the Chinook tribe," Clarke said, referring to a tribe of Indians that occupied banks of the Columbia river. The canoes were pushed towards the northern shore and America turned his eyes away from the ocean towards the beach, his heart nearly jumping up to his throat when he saw someone standing there.

When they finally had beached, America stumbled out of the canoe and raced towards the figure standing on the beach. She was smaller than he was but the fierceness in her hazel eyes made up for the lack of height. She had long dark brown hair tied back in a pair of braids and wore a scowl on her pretty face. Her clothing, thank goodness, was the elk and deer skin of the Native Americans in the area. However, her skin was pale, like that of a European. "Who are you?" She asked, her English accented and thick. He couldn't quite place the accent but it didn't matter.

America dropped to one knee and took her hand in his own. The movement startled the woman but she did not pull away, "I am America." He introduced himself, "I have come a long, long way to find you, Oregon."

She cleared her throat awkwardly and helped him stand up, "Thank you for finally coming to meet me," She said, the hostility in her voice fading away, "I've met so many other countries but I thought you had forgotten about me."

"I would never forget about you, Oregon." America promised her, dropping her hand. She took a step back and peered over his shoulder.

"Who are those people?" She asked, furrowing her brow. America turned around and waved at the expedition.

"No need to fret, they're friends," He reassured her. She gave him a little smile and a nod before slowly walking towards the expedition. America followed behind her, waving them down to introduce them to his new territory.

**-1818-**

"Dammit America!" England slammed his hand on the luxurious oak table, upsetting the fancy wine America had brought, "You can't have her, she's mine!"

"Just because you got there first doesn't mean you can have her." America said calmly, "She doesn't understand why you're doing this, acting like a child."

"Because I found her! I fell in love with her!" England snapped, "Just because she's in your territory doesn't mean that you have claims to her."

"But it does, old friend." America explained, feeling his temper rising, "I don't want to fight with you again, we just ended our fighting not too long ago."

England's shoulder's sagged, "I asked her to marry me."

"WHAT?!" America was out of his chair and face to face with England within seconds, "HOW DARE YOU ASK HER TO MARRY YOU WITHOUT MY PERMISSION!"

England narrowed his eyes and scowled, "If it makes you feel any better, she said she would have to think about it."

America took a step back and brushed off his jacket, "Well, I certainly hope she will say no."

England flashed his counterpart a glare and frowned, "You don't have to say it like that." He said coldly. Suddenly, he perked up and then glanced over at America, "What if we split Oregon? You get half and I get the other half?"

"Oh no, it's either all or nothing." America snapped bitterly.

England resisted the urge to roll his eyes, "Like you said, I would rather not have to deal with another war. My countrymen aren't willing to war over her and I don't think yours are either. Splitting her would be our best option."

After a moment of hesitation, America's shoulders sagged and he sighed, "Fine, we can split her."

England's face broke into a warm grin as he stuck out his hand, "That's what I wanted to hear."

**-1846-**

A woman in a long prarie skirt with a bonnet on her head watched as travelers appeared on the horizon, their feet worn and tired. Excitement rose in her belly as the travelers approached her and she raced down the hill she had been standing on to greet them. She ran across the plain, her bare feet warmed by the sand and stopped in front of the first wagon.

"Hello!" She said with a warm smile, "I'm so glad you made it!"

The man in front of the wagon train nodded at her and smiled back, "We've heard stories about you but to see you with my own eyes...it's a miracle."

"I'm glad to see that so many of you made it. I understand that you've come a long ways to get here so I won't talk anymore. Come, there's people who want to meet you." She took the leader's hand and led him towards a small outcropping of buildings where people of all ages milled about, waiting to see the train of people. "Over there is the general store and that's the saloon." Oregon pointed out, nodding at each building in turn.

"You are certainly excited," The man said with a chuckle. The woman dropped his hand and gave him another one of her excited smiles.

"I'm just so happy you're here!" She admitted, pushing a dislodged piece of hair behind her ear, "I have to leave now but I hope that you will enjoy your time here." With that, the woman went running down the road and dissapeared into the trees, leaving the pioneers to meet their fellow neighbors and friends.

**-1954-**

Cars were lined up and down the road to Mirror Lake, just bordering the beautiful Mt. Hood wilderness. People talked excitedly about what had been captured on film, their eyes filled with wonder and amazement. One showed off a picture he had found in a magazine of the illusive Bigfoot, his head turned slightly to the right as if posing for the picture. He had been spotted in the area and now there were hundreds of native Oregonians who wanted their own pictures.

In the cool, dense Northwestern rainforest, a woman sat underneath a tree, drawing a picture of a squirrel in a notebook. Oregon stuck out her tongue as she tried to get the chubby cheeks just right when all of the sudden, she heard a noise. She looked up to see a creature about eight feet tall standing about fifty yards away, his black animal eyes glittering under massive amounts of thick brown fur. Oregon managed to squeak out a warning but kept her eyes trained upong the Sasquatch creature.

"H-hello," She said, her voice waivering slightly, "You must be B-Bigfoot. I'm Kate."

The creature cocked his head slightly to the right and Oregon swallowed noisily. Slowly, she reached into her backpack and drew out an apple, "Would you like something to eat?" She rolled the apple towards Bigfoot who stooped down and picked it up, sniffing it lightly. Oregon watched in fear as he opened his great maw and popped the apple into his mouth whole. He chewed for a few moments before he broke out into a smile. Suddenly, he charged at Oregon and she screamed, trying to jump up without tripping over her skirt.

However, when she felt his great hand wrap around her wrist, she knew it was over. She closed her eyes, waiting for her more famous native to bite her in half when she felt (and smelled) his thick, scratchy fur, she realized that he wasn't going to eat her!

"Oreeeeeeegun..." She felt the word rumble through his chest as he gave her a squeeze that nearly broke her in half and then dropped her. She stumbled back and brushed off her sweater, trying to wrap her head around what had just happened.

"Yes, Oregon." She said, her eyes wide in fear, "Okay, I'm going to go now Bigfoot but don't get into any more trouble."

She turned to leave but about five minutes after walking away, turned around to see him skulking in the bushes! "I'm leaving and you can't come with me!"

"Oreeeeeeegun." The rumble came again as she frowned and put her hands on her hips.

"No, this is your home! You can't come!"

"Oreeeeeegun."

"No."

"KAAAAAATE."

"Ugh." She groaned and kept walking, very aware that she was being followed by a Sasquatch.

**-2014-**

"Oh my God! You are kidding me, right?"

"'Fraid not, Kate."

Oregon scowled and rolled up the sleeves on her favorite red plaid shirt. "I can't believe that America would rather take California to the World Conference than me."

"Didn't you get to go back in 1921?" Montana asked, tipping his cowboy hat back with his index finger. The two were sitting outside the Baghdad Theater in downtown Portland, both enjoying a freshly brewed glass of Thunderhead ale.

"She's gotten to go way more than me," Oregon complained, "And he also told me that he was definitely taking me this year."

"Look on the brightside," Montana said, downing the rest of his beer, "At least you've gotten to go. Don't mention it to poor Wyoming. He's never gotten to go before."

Oregon rolled her eyes and motioned for the waitress to bring her another glass of beer, "Well...it's like the third least populated state, right?"

Montana chuckled and pushed back his chair, "Don't let him hear you talking like that. Anyway, I should be heading back. Idaho has been bothering me to go hunting again and I promised her I would go." He stood up and then wrapped his arms around Oregon. She hugged him back, inhaling the scent of freshly plown earth and wheat. "It was good catching up with you, big sister."

"You too, Cath." She mumbled into his worn work shirt, "Don't work too hard."

He pulled back and flashed her a grin, "I never work too hard. You should come up to Montana next time we meet up. We can go horseback riding and then white water rafting!"

"Sounds like a plan," She said with a smile, "I'll see you later."

"See ya." He waved, turned on his heel and then walked down the street, getting oogled at by nearly every girl he passed. Oregon went her seperate way, walking down Hawthorne on her way to parts unknown. A whiff of stink caught her nose and she whipped around to see a pair of glittering black eyes staring back at her.

"Bigfoot! Go home! You've been following me for 50 years!" She yelled, scaring the creature away. Several passerbys stopped to toss her a strange look but then kept walking. Oregon turned around and continued on.

It started to rain about halfway to her house but she had gotten used to it over the years. She opened the apartment door and her cat, Mr. Pickles, meowed and yawned from his perch. She smiled and dropped her bag on the couch before picking up her guitar and strumming it.

_"Land of the Empire Builders, _  
><em>Land of the Golden West; <em>  
><em>Conquered and held by free men,<em>  
><em> Fairest and the best. <em>  
><em>Onward and upward ever, <em>  
><em>Forward and on, and on;<br>Hail to thee, _  
><em>Land of Heroes, <em>  
><em>My Oregon."<em>

* * *

><p>So, a few drabbles from my Hetalia OC, Oregon to get the ball rolling. Mostly just peeks into her past but I may continue on with her. Let me know what you think!<br>Anyway, here is some more information about her...

Name: Katherine "Kate" Beckett  
>Alias: Oregon<br>Nicknames: Orey, Portlandia, Rosey  
>DOB: February 14th, 1859 (Official birthday, but others know her to be older. Doesn't like to talk about her age.)<br>Gender: Female  
>Age: Early to Mid 20's<br>Occupation: Unknown

Hair: Dark russet brown, very shiny and usually pulled back from her face in either a braid or a ponytail. Seldom leaves it down.  
>Eyes: Hazel, very wide giving her a perpetual curious look. Her eyesbrows are very thick but well maintained.<br>Skin: Super pale, has a smattering of freckles across her nose.  
>Body: She is shorter and somewhat curvy.<br>Height: 5'4"  
>Weight: 134 lbs.<br>Extras: She wears a nose ring on occassion, thick glasses and has a tattoo sleeve on her left arm. (Got it done in the 90's.)  
>Usual Dress: Oregon wears skinny jeans, a red plaid shirt, TOMS shoes, and usually a band tee of some obscure band that "you've never heard of". She also wears beanies a lot.<p>

Personality: Oregon is a very curious girl, always willing to try new things and make them her own. She likes being ahead of the curve and takes pride in her largest city's slogan "Keep Portland Weird." (Granted, they stole it from Austin, Texas.) However, she is very suspicious of strangers and finds it's hard to make friends. She is also a big flirt and has many great men in love with her and her cities. She is very protective of those she loves and will fight as hard as she can to get them what they need. She is also independant in any political factions but does tend to lean more towards the liberal side as of late. Oregon is also very friendly but tends to be a bit of a whiner when things don't go her way.

Hobbies: Guitar, hiking, craft brewing, wine tasting, exploring, reading, drinking coffee, skiing, being at the coast, rock hounding, biking, wind surfing and wakeboarding.  
>Favorite food: She can't decided. There are too many food carts! (But she's fond of Seafood and Thai)<br>Favorite drink: Pelican Pub Cape Kiwanda Cream Ale  
>Favorite Movie: The Shining or The Goonies<br>Favorite Band: The Shins and The Decemberists

Relationships:  
>She is very close with Montana, Washington and Idaho but is merely tolerant of her southern cousin California who always seems to get the attention from America. She and Montana are best friends and considers Washington her little brother. Idaho has always been more in touch with her outdoorsy side.<p>

Extra:  
>-Oregon has had Bigfoot following her since the early 50's. Most states think she's paranoid but she knows that he's there.<br>-Oregon's eyes change color depending on the season, but ususally they're hazel.  
>-Oregon is an extremely proud state and can become arrogant.<br>-Oregon changes her appearence depending on her current social current.  
>-Oregon has a cat named Mr. Pickles.<br>-Oregon has problems with ducks following her whenever they're in the area.  
>-Oregon's favorite animal is, surprisingly, the platypus.<br>-Oregon's sister country is Scotland.  
>-Oregon has been engaged twice in her life. (Once to England, and once to Spain)<p> 


End file.
